


december 13th: a secret recipe

by watergator



Series: december fic advent 2020 [13]
Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: prompt: hot chocolatekurt and blaine learn new christmas traditions as parents
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: december fic advent 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035978
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	december 13th: a secret recipe

There’s a sea of wrapping paper floating around on the floor, and Kurt makes yet another mental note, adding to the never ending list, that he needs to pick the mess up before he slips and breaks his neck on it, which wouldn’t be ideal for Christmas.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as he hears a soft singing coming from the kitchen, along with the chattering of pots and pans, and then a whistle.

Kurt does actually almost slip on the discarded paper, gasping as his throat flies into his throat for one panicked second before he rights himself.

“Holy…” he trails off when their baby girl who’s been happily sitting in her high chair, lets out a giggle.

“Holy moly!” He exclaims, his voice raising an octave as he steps over a patch of gingerbread patterned paper to grab her, scooping her up into her arms.

She’s getting heavier now as he rests her against his hip, and she gurgles, sticking her thumb into her mouth as Kurt makes his way to the kitchen, where he’s hit with the wave of cooking turkey.

“Something smells good,” Kurt comments and Blaine spins on his heels, slightly startled for a moment before his face breaks into a grin, and his eyes go soft as the sight of his husband and daughter.

“Yeah,” he coos, wiping his greasy hands on his apron, reaching forward to poke at her chubby cheek. “Is baby girl looking forward to her first Christmas dinner?”

Kurt jiggles her by hoisting her up as she starts to slip, her tiny, chubby hands reach outwards towards Blaine, her smile dimples and she coos back.

“I don’t think she’ll appreciate the whole festivity show just yet,” Kurt comments, looking down at his daughter as she manages to grab at Blaine’s hair before letting go again. “But I think she’s having fun! Oh yes she  _ is!” _

She lets out a gurgling baby sound and both men laugh, and in turn, she laughs with them.

*

Kurt had a lot of fond memories of Christmas in his life; as an only child for a majority of it, he was pretty much showered in attention and gifts and love. As a very small child he’d be woken by his mother, wrapped up in her robe, feet snug in her slippers as she’d lead him downstairs, tiptoeing to where the tree would be glistening in lights, and there would be a mound of gifts underneath and around it.

His dad would be beside the fireplace, rubbing at his head in fake shock as he looked down, where across the floorboards there were snowy white footprints.

Years later, Kurt figured out that it was actually just his dad’s boots dipped in flour to create the illusion of Santa coming through their home with snow still trailing behind him.

But still, the sentiment was enough, and Kurt stores the memory deep in his mind, so that when his own child is old enough to experience the magic of Christmas, he’ll be able to give her what his parents gave him.

And then of course as the years ticked over, people came and went, the tradition of Christmas started to shift; adapting itself for him.

His mother wasn’t here anymore, but he had Carole and Finn and their traditions. He had sweet potato mash for the first time when Finn explained that it was family tradition over regular mashed potato.

And then when he met Blaine, they made a new tradition of hot drinks and flirty duets, even if the first flirty duet wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to be a flirty but… toe may toe toe ma toe.

And now with an infant in their lives, tradition was different, not to include that the whole world was currently participating in a global pandemic, so any normal traditions were out of the window.

It wasn’t ideal, having their first Christmas as a family away from everyone else. He’d long been planning his daughters first Christmas as perfect, but with his dad and Carole unable to travel, and then unable to get to them, it seemed like all of that dreaming and fantasising wa put on hold, and instead replaced with a crackly Zoom call and his half his dad’s head in shot because he has no idea how to work a computer still. 

So Kurt’s new Christmas involves him, kneeling over some toy that Blaine had picked out, hunched over the instructions as he tries to put it together, but there’s the sound of plastic being bashed against more plastic as their daughter waits impatiently in her bouncer, and Blaine is singing still, oblivious to the mess in here still.

“Where the hell is screw A?” Kurt asks himself, frowning as he pats the floor in hopes it hasn’t rolled too far away. 

He’s been met with nothing as screw A decidedly refuses to appear under his wishful thinking, and his daughter gurgles again, as if she too understands the frustration of losing a minuscule part of the toy.

He’s still searching whilst flipping through the instructions to see if maybe he can get away with leaving it out when footsteps approach them both, not bothering to look up when Blaine speaks.

“And what are you doing young lady?” Blaine asks sweetly, bending over to free their child, picking her up and putting her on the floor, her little legs wobble under her weight, not quite grasped the skill of walking by herself yet, but she grips Blaine’s fingers with tight little fists as she makes a few steps with his help.

“Baby girl wants to play, huh?” Blaine says, both to her and Kurt, who’s still searching for stupid screw A. “Not stuck in her bouncer all day!”

Kurt just sighs. “I have a screw missing,” he states and Blaine snorts a laugh.

Kurt chooses to ignore him as he keeps reading instructions that seem entirely impossible.

“This toy is ridiculous,” he grunts, frustration beginning to bubble up the longer he stares at the words that make no sense to him. “Is she even gonna play with this?” He asks, snapping his head up to look at his husband who’s now sat crossed legged on the floor, playing with their daughter as he makes faces at her.

He looks at him, smile unwavering. “Babe,” he says pointedly. “Of  _ course  _ she is. She’s gonna love it!” He coos at their baby and Kurt just rolls his eyes as he ducks his head back into the instructions.

He grumbles something about  _ stupid capitalism  _ as he hunts around for stupid Screw A

*

They definitely make way too much food for two (and a half) people, but Kurt already has made a space in the fridge for the millions of Tupperware boxes he’s about to make up, and he knows that both of them hold to power to eat through an entire fridge by the end of the week.

Blaine’s making airplane noises as he flies a spoon full of mashed sweet potato through their air, doing half a loop-de-loop, adding in a bit of drama as the potato plane apparently has one of its engine fail as it starts toplument towards the table before Blaine soars it back through the air with triumph, their daughter watching with big wide, brown eyes.

“Did your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?” Kurt asks, smirking into his glass of wine as he brings it to his lips.

The spoon pops into her mouth and she sucks on the mash potato as Blaine pulls it back out.

“It’s not food,” he stage whispers. “It’s a plane, remember?”

Kurt snorts a laugh as their daughter makes grabby hands for more.

“Right,” Kurt nods. “Do you want me to co-pilot? Your own food is getting a little cold there,” he frowns, looking at where Blaine’s plate is still half full.

Blaine glances down only for a second before his attention is pulled back towards the girl who’s starting to whine for more food.

“It’s cool,” he shrugs, the spoon goes up and down in the air. “I’ll just microwave it later.”

Kurt’s heart sinks, only for a second as he ponders on how hard his husband had worked on the food, only for him to not be able to fully enjoy it in all its glory. Microwaved Christmas dinner had to be like, some sort of crime, surely.

But Blaine’s laughing as a little splatter of mashed potato ends up on the high chair tray, and both of them laugh as she sticks her finger into it rather experimentally before shoving it into her mouth, a delighted squeal and a smile follows.

“I’ll reheat it for you and get you another glass of wine,” Kurt tells him softly, standing up and ducking down to press a kiss on both their heads.

He slides the plate into the microwave for later, and makes a start on the dishes as he listens to his husband make more airplane noises, giggles following after.

*

There’s a whole trash bag full of paper and plastic and ripped up boxes, propped up beside the back door where someone will take it out to the trash when they can be bothered. There’s half a gateau left on the side that Kurt’s probably gonna finish off later, and the bottle of wine that was cracked open over dinner is long gone.

The house is quiet, the TV plays softly and the baby monitor that sits on the end table crackles softly as she rolls over or murmurs something in her sleep every now and then.

“I can’t believe it’s over already,” Blaine speaks softly; he’s sprawled out on the couch, his legs draped over Kurt’s lap where he’s working his thumb against the bottom of his foot with slow, soothing circles.

“Mmh,” Kurt hums, mulling over his husband's words. After what felt like the longest build up to Christmas, it seems to have practically vanished within mere seconds.

“It was good though,” Blaine turns his head to look at Kurt. “Right?”

Kurt looks back at Blaine; the light off the TV bounces off his face, creating shadows around his features, and he looks tired, but in a good way.

“It was good,” Kurt croaks sleepily. It’s late and he needs to call his dad again later now that everything isn’t such a rush, but he’s looking forward to crawling back into bed fairly soon.

“You think she enjoyed herself?” Blaine asks, his forehead ceases with concern and Kurt smiles at him deeply, his eyes squinting with it.

“I think she was a little overwhelmed and there’s no way she’s ever going to remember today,” Kurt comments, massaging the space between his toes. “But I think we did a good job to make it special for her,” Kurt tells him with a soft voice. “You did a good job.”

Blaine smiles, eyes droop as his head dips into the back of the sofa. 

“Good,” he says around half a yawn. “I just wanted everything to be—”

He cuts himself off as he sits up with a jolt, making Kurt jump as he swings his legs off his lap.

“What?” Kurt asks, eyes wide, fear shoots through him for a second as he worries that maybe he’d heard something on the baby monitor that he didn’t, but that fear quickly washes away when Blaine pouts, looking like a puppy when he says,

“We didn’t have hot chocolate.”

Kurt just stares at him, blinks, and then gives a crackling laugh.

“What?”

Blaine’s whole posture slumps as he looks at Kurt with desperation.

“Hot chocolate,” he repeats. “We didn’t have any.”

And of course Kurt knows what he’s talking about; hot chocolate on Christmas Day had been a Hummel tradition long before it’d been a Kurt and Blaine tradition.

He reaches over and grabs Blaine’s hand and smiles at him sweetly.

“We still have time,” he tells him but Blaine checks his watch and looks utterly devastated to see that it’s actually just a little past midnight. 

Technically the 26th now.

“We missed it,” he says in disbelief. “I can’t believe we missed our annual hot chocolate.”

Kurt squeezes his hand. “We can have some now if you like?” He suggests. “This year was a little all over the place anyway, what is a tradition only…” he glances down to check Blaine’s watch before looking back up again. “Fifteen minutes out?”

Blaine pouts again. “You sure it doesn’t matter?”

Kurt laughs, leans forward and catches his lips in his, still grinning as he pulls away again.

“Babe. The world won’t end. The sky isn’t falling down, we’ll make hot chocolate after midnight and it’ll still be as delicious as it always is.”

Blaine’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile.

“Only because you have some sort of hot chocolate making powers,” he mutters and Kurt leans towards him as he stands, and kisses him again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

“And if I ever told you how I make it…” he warns him, looking down at him, and Blaine smirks.

“... you’d have to kill me,” he finishes off.

Kurt laughs, touches the top of his head as he passes, making his way towards the kitchen that still is half a mess, on his way to make two mugs of hot chocolate. 

And it might not be the Christmas he’s used to, but it’s a good Christmas nonetheless. 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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